74 – The Grimsby lads
They sail in the cold and the grey of the morning,
Leaving their wives and their families behind
Following the fishing, fulfilling their calling,
Their charts are already the shoals for to find.
Away to the north were they know will be waiting,
Frost and black ice and the lash of the gale.
Trawling and hopping and anticipating,
A ship bumper-full and safe homeward to sail.
Refrein: Here’s to the Grimsby lads out of the trawling
Here’s to the lads on the billowing deep,
Shooting their nets and a-heaving and hauling,
All the night long and the landsmen a-sleep
From Scotland’s grey shore to the cold coast of Iceland,
Trough white sea and Faeroe they’re working their way.
Trough Dogger and Forties to stormy Bear Island,
Eigtheen long hours is the fisherman’s day.
Refrein
The nets are inboard and the catch lies a-gleaming,
There’s cutting and washing and packing below.
Ten days of fishing and home they’ll be steaming,
A thousand miles gone and a thousand to go.
Refrein
On Humber’s brown water the new sun is gleaming,
To the fisherman’s prayer the breeze sings the “Amen”.
The smokey grey town in the stillness is dreaming,
Her sons from the water return once again.
Refrein